


Put that cat back where it came from or so help me

by sarensen



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bickering, Cat Puns, M/M, PWP, Part of a longer fic, Ridiculous, does this count as soft kylux, even more cat puns, hux is Too Extra(tm) as always, millicent gives zero fucks, oh god so many cat puns, sex interrupted by a cat, sex interrupted by the judgemental stare of vader's helmet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8723266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarensen/pseuds/sarensen
Summary: “We just broke at least five fraternization regulations in front of my cat.”Kylo turns to look at Millicent. He says, “I don’t think she’s about to file an official report.”----Set between chapters 3 and 4 of Deimos. Can be read as a standalone, if you squint at the porn past the details ¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shotgunsue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsue/gifts).



> For shotgunsue, who requested “Hux catching Kylo and Millicent being friends and his response to it (in this universe)”. This started out as a fill to that prompt and then gradually devolved into shameless, shameless, self-indulgent porn. Uh. Sorry? D:

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Kylo, who is leaning inside the doorframe of his quarters wearing a loose tank and a smug expression, crosses his arms. 

Hux presses one hand against the smooth silver doorframe, clenching the other into a fist, and glares at Kylo. He demands, “Where is she.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

What Hux  _ means _ is that he’d spent possibly the longest five cycles of his life in mission analysis and COA-development meetings with the head of the Finalizer’s intelligence and logistics divisions on the subject of their imminent, so-called ‘truce’ with the Resistance, and when he’d finally gotten back to his quarters, looking forward to a long shower and a soft bed, it was to a distinct lack of Millicent and the telltale smell of burnt metal he’s come to associate with the Master of the Knights of Ren.

And so he’d zipped his uniform tunic back up and marched down the bare corridors of the Finalizer to the quarters of the only person on this ship with enough gall to touch his cat. And here he is, in all his bare-armed glory, filling the doorway like a tiny, cold-resistant mountain.

“Millicent,” Hux bites out, fingers digging into the doorframe. “Where is she?”

“How would I know?” starts Kylo, “I don’t even--”

He’s interrupted by a soft mewl from behind him, somewhere inside his quarters. Hux narrows his eyes, shoving past Kylo. Liar.

The antechamber of Kylo’s quarters is shades of austere charcoal and black, the ship’s bare bulkheads craning from floor to ceiling, concealing the dim lights that illuminate the room. It smells vaguely of dust and that burnt metal scent that follows Kylo like a fog. 

The room is cold, quiet apart from the soft droning hum of the Finalizer’s ion engines. It’s dominated by the tall pedestal from upon which the twisted and burnt husk of Darth Vader’s helmet presumably silently judges Kylo’s lifestyle. Hux has, on occasion, ignored breakroom chatter between the officers responsible for inspecting the Finalizer’s security feeds, consisting mostly of wild speculation about where he found the helmet and the kinds of things he says to it when he consults it, as he appears to do from time to time.

Otherwise, the antechamber houses only a chair, deep and soft and covered in black leather, a wall console, decked in red LED switches and unlabeled buttons, and a tall hexagonal receptacle filled to the brim with some kind of powder, which... Hux doesn’t even want to know. His boots are muffled by the coarse, grey carpet as he stops by the chair to turn in a slow circle. No sign of the soft, orange body he came to find.

The tinkle of a small bell draws his attention to the inner chamber. Ignoring Kylo’s protesting “Hey!”, he stalks quickly into the bedroom, only to stop short as the lights automatically brighten. 

He blinks. What used to be the inner chamber is a mess of rubble, splinters of wood and metal and papers and glass littering the floor among strips of ripped, black material and a blanketing of what are, presumably, Toko-bird feathers from what used to be a pillow. Not a single piece of recognizable furniture remains; it’s as if a typhoon ripped through the tiny room - if the typhoon had roughly the dimensions of a large brick and called itself “Ren”.

In lieu of asking one of the many, many questions he has, he turns to raise a hopefully eloquent eyebrow at Kylo, who is paused in the act of taking a step in the middle of the antechamber. 

Kylo holds both hands out, palms facing Hux. He says, “It's not the catastrophe it looks like. I…”, he considers for a moment, “...slipped.”

Hux adds, mentally, _ ‘slipped right into a temper tantrum, maybe’ _ . The debris has Kylo’s Force-colored signature all over it. He fixes him with a glare, then steps over the raised threshold into what used to be the bedroom, where Millicent is perched on the remains of a pillow, purring softly. As he reaches down to pet the tiny, orange head, she dodges, hopping off her perch in a flurry of downy feathers and streaking past his legs, straight to where Kylo fills the door. She weaves around his ankles with an angelic expression on her feline face, as if she hasn’t just ripped Hux’s heart out and used the cavity as a litter box. The little traitor.

Kylo at least has the decency to look a little sheepish when he says, “Looks like the cat’s out the bag,” and, when Hux’s only reply is to intensify his glare, “Oh, come on,” and, tentatively, “Cat got your tongue?”

Hux has regretted a great many things in his life, but none quite so suddenly and vehemently as his decision to fuck Kylo Ren.

Eventually, he manages, “Why?”

Kylo tilts his head to the side slightly and draws breath to speak. Hux holds up a finger: “Say ‘cat’ one more time.”

Kylo must either read his thoughts or have suddenly gained valuable insight into the language of posture, because his mouth shuts with an audible click.

Hux ducks forward, reaching for Millicent, but she floats into the air and hovers just in front of Kylo, who has one hand slightly raised. 

And Kylo says, “Apologise.”

“Excuse me?”

“Apologise to me, or the cat dies.”

Hux pauses. 

Kylo holds his gaze, unblinkingly. Millicent is watching a dust mote floating nearby with interest, ears twitching lightly at the tinny, far-off sound of a radio, static hissing between reports.

“...Just to be clear,” Hux finally says, “You want me to apologise for reminding you that you, grandson of the infamous Darth Vader, trained in the ways of the Force since you were a little child, lost a fight to a scavenger roughly one third your size, who didn’t even realize she was Force-sensitive until you tried to torture information out of her, which, I’d like to remind you, we would have had if we’d just followed my original plan?”

Kylo’s brow twitches into a frown.

Hux crosses his arms. “Or do you want me to apologise for insulting the very jagged and painful-looking scar splitting that handsome face in half?”

Kylo’s power billows out with his anger, prickling against Hux’s skin uncomfortably. He lifts his hand properly, fingers in a claw to focus the Force in Millicent’s direction and Hux’s heart skips a beat. He raises his hands, taking an unwilling step forward, to plead with Kylo to stop or try to physically intervene - he’s not sure which - cringing at the thought of what all that power could do to that tiny body.

But Millicent’s ears are perked, body relaxed and complacent, and just on the very edge of hearing there is the soft, trembling sound of a low purr.

It’s a bluf. Kylo’s bluffing.

Hux crosses his arms lightly again, arranging his features into an unaffected look, and settles back. “Go on, then,” he says lightly, “Kill her.”

Kylo blinks.

Hux says, “You think I care about a cat? I wiped five entire planets out of existence.” 

Kylo falters slightly, his hand lowering. Hux can feel the weight of his power pressing on his mind and strains against it until finally, Kylo slumps a little and says, “This is not like you at all.”

Hux stalks forward and takes Millicent gently from Kylo’s Force hold, cradling her against his chest. “I was going to say this isn’t like you, either, but upon reflection, I’ve come to the conclusion that terrorizing defenseless animals is exactly the kind of thing you’d do.”

Millicent is so warm against him that he has to fight off a shiver, not having realized just how cold it really is in Kylo’s quarters.

“She’s hardly defenseless,” Kylo is protesting, gesturing with one upturned palm in Millicent’s direction, “Those are the eyes of a stone cold killer.” He drops his hand with a disgruntled sigh. “I wasn’t really going to hurt her just to get to you.”

“I know, Kylo.” 

“...There is, after all, more than one way to skin a cat.”

Hux can practically feel his face turn to stone as he looks at Kylo.

After a hopeful pause, Kylo continues, “Nothing? Come on, that was at least a little funny.”

“You’re hilarious,” Hux deadpans, stepping past him and back into the antechamber, where the motion-activated lights automatically brighten again.

“Hux,” Kylo’s hand lands heavily on Hux’s shoulder, pulling him to a stop and around to face him in one motion. He sounds exasperated: “Why do you always have to be so…”

“So what?” Hux snaps when he trails off, “Which part of me exactly are you finding difficult to comprehend? … You just gestured at all of me.”

“Exactly,” Kylo grumbles, “Attempting to understand you is like herding cats.”

“I hate you,” Hux says, in lieu of allowing his knee to make contact with some of the more sensitive areas of Kylo’s anatomy. 

“I sense that you’re lying,” Kylo replies, stepping up close enough to press Millicent lightly into Hux’s chest. “You think I’m handsome.” 

“I think you’re ridi--” the rest of Hux’s sentence disappears into Kylo’s mouth as he presses forward for a kiss, and because Hux’s willpower has recently been reduced to roughly the tensile strength of tissue paper, he allows it.

When he isn’t immediately shoved away, Kylo presses in close, hand sliding down to Hux’s upper arm as he deepens the kiss. Millicent, less than happy with being trapped between them, squirms out of Hux’s arms and drops to the floor. Hux follows her with a glare as she twists around Kylo’s ankles, rubbing her head against his boot.

Kylo’s fingers are cold on Hux’s jaw as he tilts his head up to look at him. His other hand slips down to cup Hux’s cock through the front of his jodhpurs.

“We don’t have time for this,” Hux protests, reaching down to catch his wrist and tugging on it.

Kylo is looking at him in that way he has, somewhere between earnest and pleading and it really isn’t fair that someone who’s killed so many people can look so innocent. “Hux,” he implores, “There’s time. You know, even cats have to--”

Hux rolls his eyes, letting go of Kylo’s wrist to clamp his palm over his mouth instead, muffling the rest of his words. “Fine,” he accedes with a resigned sigh, and feels Kylo’s lips twitching into that lopsided smile under his hand.

He releases him when Kylo unbuckles his jodhpurs, slipping a hand inside his briefs to wrap around his cock. His fingers are cold, rough and calloused, but the touch sends a shiver up Hux’s spine that makes his cock swell, filling out into Kylo’s palm. He focuses on his breathing, loud in the quiet room.

When he’s hard enough to tent the front of his underwear, Kylo pulls his hand away, keeping his eyes locked on Hux as he backs away from him and sinks down in the black leather chair, legs spread obscenely wide. He smiles a bit and says, “Take off your clothes.”

Hux riles at the order, putting his hands on his hips and fixing Kylo with a Look. He’s about to argue, but Kylo has him pinned with an almost feral stare, palming himself with that big hand of his, rubbing at the growing bulge in his pants, which is… well, hot. 

Screw it. He can rebuke Kylo for breaking rank later. Shaking his head at his own damn weakness, he unzips his uniform tunic, unclipping the wide waist belt and dropping it to the floor. He shrugs the tunic off his shoulders, bundling it in one hand and tossing it to land squarely on Kylo’s face.

Leaning down to unzip and step out of his boots, he pushes his jodhpurs down, then sneaks a glance at Kylo, who has draped the tunic over the back of the chair and has his cock in hand. Even half hard, it fills his palm, the skin stretching and rumpling as he slowly fists himself. The sight of it makes Hux’s mouth go dry. Apparently, his standard protocols for dealing with Kylo Ren-induced ridiculousness have been overridden by a tiny voice in the back of his head that only knows the words “fuck” and “me”. Which is worrying, to say the least: he’s pretty sure things like, for example, begging Kylo to fuck him raw in the meeting room instead of taking disciplinary action against him for Force-choking another officer might have a negative effect on crew morale.

However. They’re here now, and Hux is already down to his briefs and tank, and where Kylo’s concerned Hux’s levels of vitriol toward him are matched only by his confounded attraction to the man. So he bites his lip, walking over slowly and considering his approach. Kylo is watching him, now, with rapt attention, both hands resting on the cushioned armrests of the chair.

Inspiration strikes. Hux turns his back to Kylo, straddling one broad, muscular thigh and sinking down slowly, keeping an eye on Kylo’s face over his shoulder as he rubs his ass lightly over his cock, teasing it into the dip of his cleft.

Kylo’s mouth drops open slightly, eyes flickering down and fixing on the point where their bodies touch with a soft exhale. Big hands come to rest on Hux’s waist, long fingers almost meeting over his abdomen and his thumbs pressing lightly into his lower back. His breath hitches when Hux pushes down, applying a bit more pressure. 

Hux smiles slightly. He’s about to get off Kylo to push his briefs down when he looks up, and pauses.

Darth Vader’s helmet is staring right at him from the dais, blackened eyeholes mocking him from approximately five meters inside of what Hux considers an acceptable amount of personal space.

He blanches, erection flagging immediately. The jagged and broken grid of the mouthpiece resembles rows of rotting teeth. The dented noseguard and uneven eyeholes give it a sternly judgemental expression. The result is... unsettling at best.

Kylo is tugging on his waist, pulling him back against his cock, but Hux resists. “Stop.”

Kylo doesn’t, so Hux repeats, “Stop. Stop stop stop.”

“What, Hux?” Kylo asks, sounding irritated, but letting up.

Hux turns his head back to look at him, jabbing a finger at Vader’s helmet. “I am  _ not _ letting you fuck me in front of that.”

Kylo cranes his head to look past Hux. He blinks. “The.... helmet,” he confirms, half questioningly.

“Yes, the helmet.”

Kylo looks like he isn’t quite sure what to say. “But it’s. Not...” he trails off, head twitching to the side a bit.

Hux glares. “It’s. Watching. Us.” He’s glad to realize that, among the many things he is apparently willing to do to have Kylo fuck him, giving his dead grandfather a full frontal is not one of them.

Kylo huffs an annoyed sigh, lifting one hand past Hux’s waist. The helmet drifts up into the air in his Force hold, wobbling only slightly as it rotates around before settling gently back onto the dais, facing the other way. Kylo drawls, “Happy?”

Hux makes a face. He’d prefer if the helmet were somewhere else entirely - for example, the famous Sinking Fields of Jakku - but then Kylo’s raised hand slides over the crook of his thigh, making a claw over his crotch and  _ squeezing _ and his lips are warm and wet in Hux’s neck, so he surrenders to it, sinking back against him. He’s hard again in no time at all, squirming slightly on Kylo’s thigh, a wet spot starting to form on his back where Kylo’s cock has started to leak.

The mouth on Hux’s neck disappears for a moment, and then Kylo’s hand is digging into the back of his briefs, two wet fingers pressing at his hole. He gasps as they breach him, a bit too fast to be comfortable, and immediately scissor out, stretching him. He hisses, reaching behind himself to clutch onto Kylo’s wrist, not with the intention of stopping it, but just to give him something to anchor himself to.

Kylo’s mouth is back on his neck, teeth tugging on the bottom of an earlobe before trailing kisses down into his collarbone, and Hux can’t stop the very embarrassing moan that escapes his throat. He arches back, shoulder blades pressing against Kylo’s very warm and very solid chest. Reaching up and behind, he grabs a fistful of soft, black hair to tug him close and twisting around so he can mouth at his jaw. And he’s caught in the sweetest spot, trapped between the large palm rubbing slowly over his cock, fingers crooking under its curve to caress his balls lightly, and the fingers inside him, pressing deeper and deeper with every thrust. 

He makes an embarrassingly undignified sound when those fingers crook slightly, rubbing over his prostate, his head falling back onto Kylo’s shoulder. A bead of precome bubbles out under Kylo’s palm, staining the front of Hux’s briefs, and he can feel his balls growing heavy, pressing against Kylo’s thigh.

And if Kylo doesn’t stop right now things are going to get very embarrassing for Hux. He squirms away from him, slipping off his fingers and sliding off his thigh to stand a little unsteadily, bracing himself against the dais with one hand. In an attempt to settle himself, he takes a few deep breaths, then pushes his briefs down, stepping out of them. There’s a soft rustle behind him before Kylo’s tank joins the small pile of clothes on the floor. Hux glances over his shoulder to find him bare-chested, cock fully erect and jutting out of his open breeches, curving back against his stomach to rub a wet spot over his abdomen. As Hux watches, he drags his palm over the slit, smearing a long white streak of precome down to the coarse hairs at the base.

Hux feels a bit lightheaded.

He swallows, turning his back on Kylo again and lowering himself over both his thighs, reaching behind for his cock. Kylo’s fingers meet his, helping him orient himself as he sinks down onto it with a hiss. And he really should be used to this by now, to the way it fills him and stretches him beyond the point of being comfortable, but he’s not, maybe never will be, and has to pause several times in the act of lowering himself, adjusting to Kylo’s wide girth before finally seating himself fully in his lap with a wince. He’s panting now, sweat coloring the front of his tank. 

“Hux,” Kylo breathes by his ear, wrapping his arms around his waist in a reverse hug and just holding him like that, lightly, “Fuck.”

He lets go when Hux starts to move, little back and forth thrusts of his hips. Arching back to rest against Kylo’s broad chest, Hux glances down, and fuck, he can just see the tip of Kylo’s cock bulging out his stomach as he moves. This drags a low moan from him, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut, or risk coming right there.

Kylo’s lips press against his ear again to murmur, “I love the sounds you make,” and when he rests one palm on Hux’s thigh, Hux clutches onto the thick wrist to anchor himself, biting his lip hard to try and keep himself from being any louder. He feels absolutely exposed, splayed open around Kylo’s massive legs, cock leaking against his tank and balls heavy enough to press into the dip between Kylo’s thighs. It makes him feel positively debauched.

He’s about to tilt his head back for another kiss when a warm, soft body brushes against his ankle. He frowns down at Millicent, nudging her gently with his foot. Having his sexual depravity witnessed by his cat is one of the worst blows his dignity could suffer (second only to being fucked in front of Kylo’s infamous dead grandfather, or possibly just being fucked by Kylo at all in the first place).

Millicent’s bell tinkles as she hops up onto the armrest of the chair, and then up on the backrest, balancing there precariously to rub her face against Kylo’s hair. Hux stills, twisting back with a reprimanding glare. “Millie, get off.”

Kylo reaches up to scratch her ears gently, then uses the Force to levitate the startled cat through the entryway into his destroyed bedroom. “I’m onto you,” he warns, ignoring her indignant meow and settling her gently down near the door to the refresher, “Think you can get some reconnaissance done on which sensitive parts you’re going to mangle in my sleep? Not today, little cat.”

Hux snorts derisively at the tone of his voice; the mighty Kylo Ren, affectionately teasing a cat. He’s about to say something snide, but Kylo seems to sense his intention and snaps his hips up, quickly, cock sliding right over his prostate and all that comes out is a kind of drawn-out, garbled “... _ fuck _ .”

Kylo thrusts a few more times, and Hux isn’t going to last long against the white hot pleasure pooling in his belly. Urgency builds in him, cock begging for attention and he doesn’t even try to resist it, reaching down to fist himself hard. A jolt of pleasure races up his spine, making him squeeze down on Kylo. And Kylo moans, a guttural, throaty moan against the nape of Hux’s neck, and comes, shooting hot and deep into Hux. It seems to go on forever, his forearms clenching tightly around Hux’s stomach and his face buried in the crook of his neck. 

Overhead, the lights flicker as Kylo’s power billows out from him, a cloud of warm and prickling energy shimmering through Hux like electricity. The warm almost-sting of it pushes him over the edge as well and he comes with a shout, clamping his hand over the tip of his cock to keep from spilling on his tank.

When he’s able to see past the white spots clouding his vision again he allows himself to slump back against Kylo, breathing hard. Kylo’s come is leaking out of him, pooling warmly in the crook where their bodies meet. Kylo is panting as well, his heartbeat a steady thud against Hux’s back and his arms still loosely curled around his waist. It’s as if all the tension and manic energy of the past few days has left Hux’s body in a rush, leaving him warm and sated and supple, resting heavily against Kylo’s chest. He lays a hand on one of Kylo’s arms, still tucked around him, the fine dark hairs there tickling his palm lightly.

A light tinkle breaks the silence. Millicent is back, reappearing from the bedroom to hop up onto Vader’s pedestal and perching precariously on the rim to watch them. Hux looks at her quietly, stroking Kylo’s arm absently, considering.

Eventually, he murmurs, “We just broke at least five fraternization regulations in front of my cat.”

Kylo looks up at Millicent from where his mouth had been leaving hollow kisses over Hux’s shoulder. He says, “I don’t think she’s about to file an official report.”

“You do realize I will exact revenge for this, right?” Hux says, mildly, half-teasing as he pulls at Kylo’s arms until he lets him go. Gingerly pushing himself up, he squirms a bit in distaste as more come slips out of him along with Kylo’s cock. 

“For… having sex?” Kylo hazards, raising an eyebrow.

Hux grabs Kylo’s discarded tank off the floor, using it to dab at his thighs, and explains, patiently, “For abducting my cat.” He tosses the soiled shirt into Kylo’s lap when he’s done, no serious vitriol in his voice when he adds, “Your precious Force will not be able to protect you. You won’t know when or where I’ll strike, won’t see me coming until my knife is buried in your back.” 

“That’s a little extreme.”

Hux smiles slightly, collecting the various pieces of his uniform off the floor and chair and starting to put himself together again. He tucks the jodhpurs into his boots and zips the tunic up to his chin. As he fastens the belt around his waist, Kylo says, “You still haven’t apologised. Or thanked me.”

“Thanked you?” Hux says, incredulously, “For what?”

“For fucking you, even though I should be angry at you.”

“You should be thanking me for allowing you to touch me at all despite ruining literally every plan I’ve made in the past five years.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Kylo scoffs, “What about the mission to the Radama void?”

“You weren’t actually involved in that one, Kylo.”

Kylo frowns slightly, looking off to the side.

Hux fastens the cufflinks on his sleeves and says, “Anyway, I should go. With both of us leaving the Finalizer there are certain protocols that need to be put in place.”

“Stay a bit longer, though,” Kylo coaxes, reaching out to take Hux’s wrist.   


Hux evades and reaches up, petting his hair as into place as it will go without the proper product. Collecting Millicent in one arm, he says, “I have to prepare for this foolish little side-trip you’ve contrived for us.” And as the doors to Kylo’s quarters hiss open, he looks at Kylo over his shoulder and adds, “Besides, that chair is really too small for the both of us. There’s not enough room to swing a cat in here.”  
  
As the door hisses shut on Kylo’s surprised expression, Hux scratches the back of Millicent’s ear lightly, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter of Deimos is turning out to be quite long and complex, so I wanted to put this up in the meantime, while I work on that. I am the worst at writing sex though, ugh ;(  
> I feel like I should feel sorry for inflicting this on the world. (I'm not)


End file.
